I Hate You
by Miren and Rhun
Summary: A Black Spy/White Spy romance, if you could call it that. I don't think anything those two do together could really be considered romantic, even if they WERE rolling about on the floor smooching. At any rate, I hope you enjoy. -Undergoing Editing-


**Authors Notes at bottom of page**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Spy vs Spy, I'm just manipulating Black and White for my own sadistic pleasures.**

**Claimer: I do own this fanfiction and a gerbil named Chenrou. Oh, and a Milky Way bar. And a deep hatred for all things pink and fluffy.**

**EDIT - 27/2/09: Hello, one and all. I return to you now over a year and a half after the initial writing of this story to patch up some errors in the writing. This isn't a terrible fanfiction, but I can certainly do far better now, and it is frankly a blight on my gallery. I'm only editing little bits and pieces right now, and will go over it more thoroughly at a later date. I've also thus far made corrections and improvements only to the first part, but I'm a little pressed for time right now. I'll briefly run through the second part a little later or at least some day soon. **

**I thank all who have read and enjoyed my story, you always serve to brighten my day, and I hope you will enjoy it even more so once I have finished the long overdue improvements.**

**That said, nothing else has changed, except that the gerbil I own is now Derkel, as Chenrou passed away at the ripe old age of 4 ½ during the winter of 2007 after contracting cancer. May he rest in peace.**

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60 seconds.

That's all he had.

He could see the wick of the dynamite growing shorter and shorter, just a minute before the small flame finally ignited the dangerous explosive.

55 seconds.

All he had to do was keep White in place for 55 seconds and he would be home free for another day.

50 seconds.

Time was ticking by way to slow for his liking. White began to inch forward from where he stood, knife clutched tightly in his right hand.

45 seconds.

He could practically _feel_ the waves of excitement emanating from his enemy. White had expected the explosion to happen quickly, leaving him no opportunity to escape. Even less chance to take advantage of his weaponless rival.

Black cursed his stupidity as his foe loomed over him. It had not occurred to him to cut the wick and thus reduce the time it would take for the explosive to finally ignite and blast his enemy. With all his experience dealing with explosives, he could not imagine why such an important detail had slipped his mind. Nor could he rationalize why he had considered it a good idea to take on White with nothing more that a single stick of dynamite. When was the last time he had left his flat without a gun? A knife?

40 seconds.

White's breath tickled the end of his nose, mouth just inches away from his own. _Leering_.

He tried to back up a bit, trying to hide his fear of the sharp weapon resting oh-so-casually against his side. White's grin broadened. He applied more pressure to the weapon, the blade slicing easily through the coarse fabric of Black's jacket and fraying the shirt beneath.

35 seconds.

Black's mind raced for ideas. Any would do. White was now out of range of the small yet lethal stick of explosive, rendering his whole plan useless.

He held his tongue as he glared into the depths of White's dark eyes defiantly, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of blood seeping into his shirt and the biting pain as the cold steel sliced through flesh. Oh what he would give to be wearing his steel vest right about now.

30 seconds.

He watched White chuckle before him, still just a few inches away. He _felt_ it. The deep rumbling vibrations disturbing the surrounding air, rattling his own chest from its close proximity to the others. He barely suppressed a shudder.

White leaned in even closer; taunting him in what he was sure would be his last few moments for the day unless he came up with a PLAN.

25 seconds.

He could practically feel Whites lips on his own, the ghost of a touch; not quite there yet not quite out of reach. He could feel himself tremble despite his efforts to control it. His mind was racing, his thoughts a nervous jumble of nonsensical ramblings and half – formed ideas, none of which were any help to him in this situation.

Sensing his nervousness, his _fear,_ White leaned in just that bit closer, the knife now drawing a sizeable amount of blood from his pained side. Amusement flickered in his eyes, his lips forming a mocking smirk that almost touched his own trembling lips. Seeing the joy White was getting from his obvious discomfort, he snapped his mind back into some sense of order, once again attempting to form a plan.

It occurred to him fleetingly that his opponent was being uncharacteristically slow and sadistic in his approach. He was unable to recall a similar situation between them. They were both swift in their methods, seeking no more than the others demise, and this time should have been akin to all the others. However, despite having White cornered and at his mercy, he had managed, through some ridiculous, almost childish blunder, to give White the upper hand. He had sabotaged his own plan for the first time, and left himself at the mercy of his intended victim. He supposed White was simply mocking him for his own foolish mistake.

20 seconds.

Those _lips_. All he could think about, focus on. Their proximity, teasing him with their whispering touches against his own parted pair. His breath quickened slightly, coming in something akin to shallow gasps, much like a fish removed from water. The knife drew him back to reality briefly. There was little time left, he had to think of something fast. Something other than those lips…

…Actually, that could work. He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

This was either going to end rather well for him, or very, very poorly.

15 seconds.

Black allowed himself a small smirk of his own as he leaned forward ever so slightly, just enough to bridge the gap between those two pairs of lips. He felt White jump slightly in surprise at the contact; he no doubt had not been expecting _this_.

Perfect.

Black pressed himself against the White suited body before him, leaning as much into the kiss as his current position would allow. He tilted his face a little, just enough so their noses were no longer crushing themselves together, allowing them a more comfortable position. He began to move his lips against the others, pleased at the shudder this action received from the shocked White. If he could just keep White stunned and out of his usual coherent train of thought, he may actually be able to turn this face-off back in his favour.

10 seconds.

He felt White's grip on the knife loosen slightly as he began kissing more fervently. He chuckled softly and leant further into the kiss, hands raised and clenched in the material of White's jacket, applying pressure and causing White to stumble back slightly. He continued in this fashion, moving forwards only to fall apart a little as White stumbled backwards.

Exactly as planned.

What he didn't expect, however, was the soft movement he got from the lips against his own pair. He halted his actions and stood there, dumbfounded, as White began to kiss him more passionately, a smirk settled on his own pair of bruised lips. This time _he_ leaned into Black, causing _him_ to stumble back. Catching on, Black could not help but rise to the challenge.

Oh, so that was how he wanted to play it.

With just moments left, Black could do little more than feel slightly disappointed that the shock of the contact alone had not put his enemy out of commission.

5 seconds.

Black resumed his assault on White, kissing, pushing, his attacks growing faster and more passionate against the other. White once more began to stumble back, overwhelmed at the sudden display of, well, affection from his rival. Or rather, violence in the form of what is traditionally recognized as an affectionate act. He attempted to regain control of the kiss but to no avail, Black was too persistent in his assault. White felt his back hit the hard brick wall of the room, a light fizzing sound reaching his ears. The sound put him on alert, told him to move, that something was wrong, but his mind was too clouded for any clear judgments to be made.

Once White hit the wall, Black parted their lips; taking in some much needed air. He smirked up at White, leaning in to place a quick chaste kiss on his lips before pushing back off the wall, chuckling.

1 second.

White remembered what the sound was.

"Oh shi-"

KABOOM

Black laughed as the tiny burnt fragments of White's suit fluttered down on him, like little pieces of blackened snow. The hat lay off to the right of the room somewhere, small flames dying to embers on its rim.

Black turned to leave the room, grabbing the 'Top Secret' folder on his way. He spotted the knife from the corner of his eye, discarded at some point during their 'struggle'. At the sight of the knife he recalled the cut in his side and at once the pain that had faded to a faint throb was at the forefront of his mind. He placed one hand over the still bleeding wound to apply pressure, in the other grasping the ever-important folder that had become the central theme of their lives. The ilk of the documents sealed within the brown paper remained unknown to them both even now. The envelope could have been empty for all he knew. But that was not his concern. All that mattered was that this time, _he_ had won.

Black resumed making his way over to the door, stopping only to blow a small kiss over his shoulder in mockery of his fallen foe. His smirk was still in place as he turned and left the premises, eager to hand in his prize and enjoy what few hours he had left of freedom.

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He knew White would be back, just as he was always back. Deaths between the two never seemed to last more than a day, odd as that seemed. He wasn't sure why, but then again, neither was inclined to discuss it with the other.

As he continued his stroll down the dark streets of the night, nothing to light his path but the moon in the sky and the occasional streetlamp, he turned his thoughts once more to the battle he had with White little more than 24 hours ago. He was concerned, not about the battle itself; he knew why he had done it; but as to why it had felt so _right_. He thought about White, questioning his feelings towards the light clad spy. What was it he felt during their battle?

'Click'

The feeling of a gun barrel digging into his back was not, by now, unusual to Black, but he still couldn't hold back the small tremor of fear his body released at the thought of his impending demise. His captor leant forward, his breath ghosting over Black's left ear.

"Alley. _Now_."

Black gulped and did as White demanded, feet shuffling towards the alley and away from the light the streetlights provided. His hand twitched at his side, longing to reach for the gun in his pocket but knowing he would be shot on the spot before his hand had moved even an inch. He sighed and allowed his hand to go lax at his side, entering the alley and continuing till he stood under a dirty light attached to the filthy alley wall, the only form of illumination the narrow space had to offer.

"Hands up."

He complied again, raising his arms above his head and allowing himself to be searched. He felt White remove the weapons from his pockets; knives, bombs, dynamite, even his nearly always present gun. He almost chuckled at this. Yesterday was the one time he forgot it, and it was the day of perhaps his most memorable victory.

Once White had finished his search, he roughly jerked Black around to face him, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"We have unfinished business."

Black had been expecting this, clenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth as White pushed him against the wall, ready to feel the bullet enter his chest.

This is what he had been expecting.

What he was not expecting, was for the feeling of the gun to leave his chest, being tossed aside and clanging off one of the many alley litterbins. Nor was he expecting the feeling of lips against his own

Black's eyes shot open, staring at the figure before him. White was pressed against him, eyes closed and mouth assaulting his ferociously. Black's back was crushed against the wall, his hands pinned to the side by White's and his legs stuck between the others, allowing little room for movement.

Black growled slightly at his position, struggling to free himself from Whites strong grip. He twisted his body to the left difficultly, freeing a leg and pressing his foot against the wall. He pushed off; slamming White into the wall opposite and copying the position the other had him in moments ago. This received an angry snarl from White as he attempted to free himself, only to have Black sneer and take over the kiss, crushing his bruised mouth into the others.

White continued to struggle against him, kissing back fiercely in an attempt to dominate the kiss. This just received a chuckle from Black as he continued to assault the others mouth, refusing to let up in the battle. White growled and leant off the wall slightly, trying to push as much of his weight as possible on Black in a futile attempt to get him to move. Black ignored this and kept a strong hold on White, allowing the enemy no room for escape.

What White did next, however, stunned Black completely.

He felt White open his mouth slightly against his own, reaching out and gripping Black's bottom lip between his teeth. Black shuddered, his limbs relaxing slightly despite his attempts to keep his firm hold on White. White took the opportunity and pushed off from the wall, causing Black to fall to ground with White atop him, straddling his waist.

Black gave out a disgruntled yelp as his back hit the concrete floor, pain coursing up his abused spine. White sniggered and leant down, once again capturing Black's lips with his own, causing Black to grunt irritably. He shifted under Whites weight, trying to free himself from his position beneath his rival, still kissing back furiously against the others lips. He then suddenly slowed, a plan forming in his head and a familiar smirk now adorning his face.

He gripped White's wrists and pulled himself up slightly, grinding his hips into the others whilst at the same time parting his lips and running his tongue along White's lips. This action received the desired effect. He felt White practically melt against him, now a euphoric dead weight against his chest. He rolled, straddling White's waist and gripping one of his hands in each of his own.

White soon awoke from his blissful stupor; angry at how easily he had been tricked. He kissed Black back fiercely, surprised when Black released his hands and reached up to flick off his hat, instead choosing to run his hands through the silky black hair there. He raised his arms and gripped Black's shirt tightly, rolling them so Black now lay directly beneath him, their chests pressed together.

They continued on like this, each fighting to best the other, as it had always been, though neither with the intention of killing.

Hours later both lay side by side beneath the dirty alley lamp, panting heavily, right where they had started. Both were missing hats, each having been discarded at some point during the battle and each wore a now rather ruffled set of clothes. A winner had not yet been decided, neither having been willing to submit to the other, and it was obvious that issue would have to be dealt with another night.

White twisted his head to the left, glaring at the side of Black's head, nose almost poking the side of his face.

"I hate you Black."

Black turned his head to face White, their long noses now crushed together painfully from their closeness.

"I hate you too."

And with that they kissed. After all, who says you can't love that which you hate the most?

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Yey! Tis finished!

O.K. Well, usually I know what to put in my authors notes but my minds gone a little blank right now.

Well, lets start with 'I'm sorry it sucked so bad'. I tried not to get the two out of character but I think I failed. The whole kissing thing was just supposed to be a new way to battle each other without killing one another, and I think I managed that, but maybe they got a little too frisky towards the end.

Oh, and I tried my hardest to keep them on equal ground. Most people do the whole 'seme/uke' thing with one of the two being dominant, but I don't think that works. The two are just so similar, like exactly the same minus the colour of their clothes, and I can't see either bowing down to the other. I think they make a fantastic couple, but I think they'd both be fighting to be dominant all the time, neither winning. I just see the two as equal.

But anyway, that's my opinion.

Hmm, for now that's all I can come up with.

Well, flames will not be accepted about the coupling, I warned everyone about it in the summary. So no likey, NO READY DAMMIT!!!

Criticism is accepted but only if you also include how to improve my fic, otherwise it still count's as a flame.

Well, please review, love you all my little chocolate marshmallows!!!

Flash

Xxx


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